Upchurch - HI-DEAS 4 lyrics

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Church, uh

Red carpet, gold lace, fake smile, fake wave
Stop, pose, smile, ayy, shutter
Flash, flash grenade, dang
What's a snake and sparkler to Mr joe Dirt
Ayy? Show me them boobies
Take the hammer to the poop tank
Kicking Wing higher than the top
Of fuckin’ Snoop's house
Shag carpet like the van when
Fred and Daphne rolled out
That's why I act like Shaggy, smoke a bleezy
Hunt for ghosts
Get possessed, become a legend with
A pencil and a scope, ho
Lead poisonin’ your cranium
These bars are thick titanium
You couldn't sink me in 1912
With icebergs helpin' ya
They told me knock on the door
Ask to be let in
The River Rat was floatin' home
On a door right then
You can blow that whistle and you'll
Jack about a thousand times
But I'm ice cold
Leave the haters frozen back in time
The poor boy stayed afloat
Rockin' bottoms like a tater sack
Spicy Cajun with the flows
Mic inside a jerky shack
Jeffery Dahmer with the knife
You want beef? I sell human flesh
From cuttin' off the faces
People comin’ tryna piggyback
Church, Church
Church you don’t answer none of
My calls no more
So I'ma start some rumors, you’re
A prick because your ego, bruh
I see you eatin' right now
You're gettin' back in shape
Since I’m just a lazy fuck
I'll say you're on coke and depressed
Thirty cars, four houses, bills paid
Suck my bull nuts
Record label, what is that? I
Sign my own checks, son
I've been my own boss since I
Got fired from Eddie's Market
Took a piss inside a classroom
Got expelled from halls of Harpeth
Dropped out, never even got my GED
Failed English class every year
Now they're readin' on me
Like I became a brain surgeon
Or I play for LSU i hit hard, so tell the
Doctor print the CAT scans, fool
I reckon you want to see
How bad I'm wreckin' it
I reckon mud tracks runnin' through the town
Dirty-dirty when I rip the shit
They opened up a can of
Teenie weenie Beanie Weenies
I'ma eat the beat with my eyes low
A hater smell like Denny's
Can I get these fuckin'
Sissies smothered, covered, extra onion?
Country rap needs a big shot
Then you can call me Paul Bunyan
Blue Ox and a White Owl
Yeah I'm hip-hop's White Owl
Since I blew up
Now it's extra pimp to pull that tractor out
Jason Aldean said he'd take you for a ride
I'm the one that's poppin' wheelies
PTO crank the high you might die in my mind
I'm a rare one of my kind
Been the shit so long I got
Mushrooms growin' on my flip side
I got the public eye trippin'
Like their pupils dilated
Hip-hop rubbin' it's eyes before they
Realized that I made it the game is closin'
Overdosin' on some Melatonin in the open
Droolin' on the window, no direction
Where the fuck you goin'?
Remember back to when Ol' Red
Had his evenin' run?
Or when George had to make
Amarillo by mornin' sun
Well, I'm makin' somethin' also
And I don't know what it is yet
I don't have to know 'cause I know
I got a killer intellectual mindset
I know time is a damn track just
Like each track has a time
This is hours of thinkin'
Just puzzle-pieced together
With a bunch of uneven lines
For uneven minds, no reason why
I'm just vocals through the damn system
But when I'm gone and the system crashes
People still gonna tune in and listen church

Stone, baby, stone stone, baby, stone